


The Glade Days

by darkwhites (greyxnotxblackwhite)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: As the story advances so will the tags, Canon Compliant, I tagged it as Major Character Death wrong sorry, Instrospection of Characters, M/M, Minor Character Death, More characters to be added, Original Gladers are basically OCs, Panic Attacks, Pre-Thomas Era, This fic is my oath to Minho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5627437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyxnotxblackwhite/pseuds/darkwhites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First Group A subjects arrive to the Maze. They will be required to work together and incentivated to look for an escape route for observation purposes.<br/> <br/>–This will be exploring the two years the Gladers spent on the Maze before WICKED decided to end the trial–<br/> <br/>Warning Note: The main focus will be Minho and Newt's characters and their relationship, BUT the other characters will have their moments too as I want to explore in detail the dynamics in general in the Glade, it's not exclusively Minho/Newt. If you are not interested on minor characters, you can either skip snippets or you can simply choose not to read this fic –although I invite you to try and see if you like it first. Normally I'll specify the cases where it's minor characters centric in notes at the beginning of each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Glade Days

**Author's Note:**

> Those two years before Thomas are a freaking enigma, and I have loads of headcanons for that time. So instead of writing a hundred one shots as I originally thought, why not make it a multichaptered fic. And here we are.  
>    
> This chapter is long, like _long_ long, I know. I just couldn't find a way to split it without disrupting the pace I wanted. Also it's easier for the titles' names.  
>     
> This chapter will include:  
> · Nick, Alby plus Nick & Alby bits. ['&' as in the friendship tag]  
> · Triggers: a detailed panic attack situation.  
>    
> Leyend -I've made it pretty clear within the context, but just in case-:  
> · Narration. _Emphasis of narration, onomatopoeias, etc._  
>  · "Dialogue."  
> · _"Thoughts."_  
>     
> Enjoy! See you at the bottom notes!   
>    
> PS: I recommend not to click on "Hide Creator's Style", there would be way too much space between lines and paragraphs.

 

 

 

 

 

 **_World In Chaos: Killzone Experiment Department_ ** **Headquarters**

**-63th Floor, East Wing**

**_Elevator A_ ** **Room**

 

 

 

"Third Subject in line’s report." A middle aged looking woman with her hair pulled back demanded to no one in particular, her open hand waiting expectantly for the beige folder containing confidentially detailed aspects of the soon-to-be on-going experiment’s subjects. She stood in front of the dormant figure of a teenage male, lying on the surface of a metallic table. Once the folder made contact with her skin, she grabbed it swiftly and scanned the documents it contained for one last time.

 

"Any anomalies since the memory obstruction operation until this very second?" Again, she spoke aloud, none of the people inside the room directly addressed, all of them required to communicate any kind of relevant information they knew of. The woman in charge reached the page she needed to focus on.

 

"None. Brain activity has showed stability after the procedure." A soft voice belonging to a ginger-haired woman answered from the left side of the unconscious person. "There are two Group A subjects in Recovery Phase yet." She added expecting a question demanding that report. The first woman nodded to her response, adding the last notes that would complete the current subject’s file before the trial started.

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:** 238402-01:03

 **Experiment Name:** Minho

 **Starting Age:** 15

 **State:** Immune

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** None

 

 

"Set all of the initial Group A subjects in queue following the previously established arrangement –do not leave those two subjects unobserved." Those words ignited a frantic course of action on every doctor in the room as her steady voice raised at the mention of those specific individuals, along with the commanding tone present on her speech while she placed the files back on the table where the rest of them were. "Reminder that timing is a carefully calculated variable and our first priority. Group A and Group B must start at the same time, keep this in mind at all times."  The woman in the white lab coat said as she selected the last documents she hadn’t gone through yet to revise them.

 

The files in her hand belonged to subjects who had successfully overcome the Recovery Phase:

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:**  238402-01:09

 **Experiment Name:** George

 **Starting Age:** 17

 **State:** Immune

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Not Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** None

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:**  238402-01:01

 **Experiment Name:** Nick

 **Starting Age:** 17

 **State:** Control Subject

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** None

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:**  238402-01:13

 **Experiment Name:** Justin

 **Starting Age:** 15

 **State:** Control Subject

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Not Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** None

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:**  238402-01:22

 **Experiment Name:** Stephen

 **Starting Age:** 16

 **State:** Control Subject

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Not Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** None

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:**  238402-01:28

 **Experiment Name:** Alfred

 **Starting Age:** 17

 **State:** Immune

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** None

 

 

Everything on the papers was in order, and sooner than later they would be able to commence the first trial.

Luckily, only two out of the thirty starting subjects of Group A caused difficulties.

 

"Chancellor Paige, you’re needed in West Wing to check on Group B." A man in his forties with an outstanding forehead approached the woman with the pile of documents.

 

"I’ll be there in a minute." She acknowledged, not interrupting her task for a few seconds until it was done. Her eyes scanned the data once more before leaving them in their pertinent place. Then, she left the room though a _flat trans_ communicating with _Elevator B_ ’s room.

 

 

 

**-63th Floor, West Wing**

**_Elevator B_ ** **Room**

 

 

 

"Chancellor," The same man spoke to Ava. "Here’s the last report of group B." He offered a file just like the ones from Group A and handed it.

 

Paige scanned the documents after someone informed her that there had been no anomalies with the current subject in.

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:**  938402-02:09

 **Experiment Name:** Harriet

 **Starting Age:** 15

 **State:** Immune

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** None

 

 

"Group B’s preparations are done." She announced after adding the last annotation. "All _B_ subjects queued in wait of the starting signal after Group A’s subjects are too." She placed the file where it belonged, then she left the room to go to the Observation Room.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**-63th Floor, East Wing**

**_Elevator A_ ** **Room**

 

 

 

It took three hours to finally approve of the condition of the last two Group A subjects. Paige had already finished filling their reports.

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:** 938402-01:02

 **Experiment Name:** Alby

 **Starting Age:** 16

 **State:** Immune

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** Retardation of memory-block procedure results. Longer settlement blockade period. No further intervention. Corrected.

 

 

**Subject Data**

 

 **Subject ID:** 938402-01:40

 **Experiment Name:** Newt

 **Starting Age:** 15

 **State:** Control Subject

 **Tag:** Initial Group

 **Possibility of Survival:** Likely

 **Anomalies before Experiment:** Partial resistance to memory-block. Soft desensitization of nerve cells applied. Synapses manipulated successfully. Slight retardation of desired results, yet presence of tolerance signs. Corrected.

 

 

"Group A’s preparations are done." Paige alerted everyone in the room as she spoke over a microphone which connected with _Elevator B Room_ ’s loudspeakers. "Experiment code 938402. First trial: Maze. Initiates in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…" She pressed the button on the device she was holding, setting the word ‘START’ in every screen connected to monitor the trial.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**Arrival –Day 1, Week 1.**

 

 

 

**_Elevator A_ **

 

 

 

It didn’t make any difference if his eyes were opened or not. The most calm of darkness surrounded him, swallowed him. He stood on his feet, cautiously waiting for something to happen.

Because clearly _something_ was bound to, his senses dictated him deep inside.

 

Right guess.

 

He fell to the ground, the force of his surroundings ascending against gravity. His working mind offered him the imagery of a lift in a flash as metal sounds registered, and he had no doubt that –by the feeling of the place– it was.

Not wasting any more second, he gathered himself up again.

But he stopped before his bare knees ceased contact with the coldness under them.

Realization hit him hard as he tried to recall something, _anything,_ about himself.

 

He couldn’t...

 

...or not quite that –he wasn’t _allowed to_.

 

A new sensation filled his insides –his brain felt robbed. A violation of everything he was supposed to know.

The emptiness, the smudged erasure of every written word on a blank sheet.

All gone.

 

Save for his name.

 

 _Nick_.

 

With his heart sinking deep in his chest, Nick breathed out shakily. He clinged to the only clue he had left, hoping and wishing dearly for it to trigger his missing memories…

 

...to no avail.

 

"...What the hell is this..." Escaped from his lips, his cracked voice his only company.

 

Tight grips became his hands –if there was any source of light, he would have noticed how his knuckles turned white. The skin in his fingers grew scrape marks from dragging them across the surface of the ground.

 

"...What can I even do?" A shivered whisper was voiced this time.

 

Nick wouldn’t dare to move from his crawled position, facing the ground with little distance in between, just searching his mind. Looking for anything he could remember.

 

The lift just kept his way up.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**-63th Floor, North Wing**

**_Monitoring_ ** **Room**

 

 

 

"Both Subjects 01 of each group have been sent to their destination." A brunette teenage girl stated, not looking away from the crystal screen in front of her face.

 

"Subjects 02 waiting for Elevators to return." Another teenage, a blue-eyed girl with brown, long hair communicated as well.

 

Ava Paige acknowledged their reports and classified the data they were already obtaining for latter studies. "Rachel," She addressed the first girl. "check the timing right after First subjects arrive and leave the elevators."

 

They waited patiently, meticulously attending their monitors.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**_Elevator A_ **

 

 

 

The lift came to a halt, the abrupt cease of movement jerked his body upwards and ended up on the floor.

 

Yet again.

 

He was able to stand still in the middle of the lift, he observed before moving around searching for the walls. But a new sound interrupted him.

 

Doors sliding.

 

Bright light bathed the interior of the cubicle and blinded the teenage boy from above. His eyes hurt for a few seconds while he blinked away his already contracted pupils.

Colours were welcoming him to the world from the upside while the lingering shadows darkened the shades of every object inside of the metal lift.

 

It wasn’t until then that Nick realised that boxes were stacked up next to the lift walls.

 

He looked up, then at the boxes. The exit was unreachable without anything to stand on. Or maybe he could try jumping, but he quickly decided against the second option, not risking the chance to lose his grip and crack his head on the floor after falling.

He immediately approached the pile of boxes and pushed them together to the wall adjacent to the exit of the lift, aligning them in a staircase-like structure. Nick only had to climb them up to get out of the metal box.

 

So he did that. He reached for his freedom.

He escalated the rearranged boxes, using one of his hands to cover his eyes from the light.

 

One box.

He looked up and could see the blue sky. The caged feeling in his chest vanishing in an instant.

 

Two boxes.

His head came out first, turning around to take in the sight of–he paused, stood still.

 

Walls. The largest he had ever seen –the only walls he consciously had a record of. His eyes scanned the place. There was a green field that extended in every direction. But it was finite anew. These immense concrete block walls ending the beautiful clearing, caging him.

 

His stare fell to the new found ground. His heart sank inside his chest.

 

He was a prisoner. There was no way out of this.

 

Nick felt first a burning in his eyes. Then the welled up tears came rushing down his cheeks. Last, an angry punch hit the muddy earth rounding the box.

 

And all of a sudden, loneliness took over Nick.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**-63th Floor, North Wing**

**_Monitoring_ ** **Room**

 

 

 

"Chancellor, elevators are returning." The voice of a teenage boy informed. His workplace was in front of Rachel’s.

 

Ava responded to Aris with a nod before addressing the quartet. "Reviewing the order you are to follow, Teresa will give the call for 02 subjects." Paige reported the group she was supervising. "Emulate Rachel’s actions as the example. Aris, 03 Subjects’ call. Thomas, 04 Subjects. That’s the preference." All of them nodded, then continued to carry out their particular tasks.

 

"Elevators in place." Thomas confirmed after a few minutes of silent work. "Teresa, they’re ready."

 

The girl pressed the keys and after the green light appeared on her screen, she voiced the result. "Subjects 02 in."

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**_Elevator A_ **

 

 

 

He felt it.

 

Alby could feel all his memories evaporating from his mind. Every piece of his life leaving empty holes inside his head. All of them irreplaceable.

 

He had to calm down.

 

To do so, he wandered the dark moving chamber he found himself into until he stood in what he believed could be the center of the cold metal box.

He sat down, pulled his legs under him.

He inhaled.

He exhaled.

He repeated.

 

Alby forced himself to breath slowly.

 

He sharpened his attention, concentrating in these important parts of him. Why were they leaving. _Why._ Just _how_ was it even happening. He couldn’t understand any of it. But he wanted it to stop. Either itself or by him.

 

He tried harder.

 

He focused all his being obstinately into grasping one last glimpse of his life. Every last bit of his mental strength making the effort.

 

He succeeded.

 

Rubble. Debris. Buildings wreckage. Litter covered whole areas, burying the torn ground beneath them. _Devastation_.

 

Multitudes in need screaming out for help. Cries in pain filling the air.

He couldn’t actually hear them, but the ghostly reminder ringing in his ears of what he once witnessed was enough. _Suffering._

 

Ashes. Bones. Corpses. Scattered around. _Death._

 

Survivors. Crimson puddles, blood. Dismembered remains of those who escaped the brutal destruction, of those who didn’t too. _Pain._

 

Infected wounds. Blistered skin. Growing pustules of the sickest shade of yellow pus. Scorches. _Disease._

 

The imagery in his head crushed his spirit. But his efforts didn’t falter. He looked for more.

 

A man and a woman, _in love_.

Tall trees. Green leaves. Little shadows dancing around the surface through the branches. Sunshine.

A beautiful boy.

 

A warm wave invaded his body, a little smile tugged at the corner of Alby’s lips.

 

Blackness.

 

He panicked. His eyes squeezed, trying to recall that scenery of a second before.

 

 _Nothing_.

 

It was gone. All gone.

 

The box lurched to a halt, an awful grating sound scratching his brain.

 

Whiteness.

 

Light shone down from above, blinding his eyes.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**-63th Floor, North Wing**

**_Monitoring_ ** **Room**

 

 

 

"03 Subjects set for their start." Aris commented on their statuses once he got the notification on his screen. "Waiting for signal."

 

Teresa typed away on her crystal keypad screen. "Chancellor, none of the subjects is collecting the boxes of supplies yet." She looked up at her superior.

 

"Don’t replace the supplies sent with the subjects yet," She started explaining without looking away from the screens broadcasting the glade. "they will figure it out. It’s all part of the trials." It was after she delivered that line that Paige looked back at her subordinates. "Our task is to register the subjects’ response. Right now, they make the decisions, not us." She further explained. "We must wait and for now, not interfere."

 

The four teenagers nodded after lecture.

 

 

 

 **-.-.-.-** **.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**_Elevator A_ **

 

 

 

Alby looked up and there was the exit of the metal box, lying above his head. He could be free and let go of whatever he had just experienced.

 

The previous devastating wave of sorrow won over the lingering heat that still laced his racing heart, which made him doubt what awaited beyond the exit would be a better future.

 

He only concluded that this situation was insane.

 

Or maybe it wasn’t this position… But himself? Was _he_ insane?

 

He closed his eyes and willed his thoughts to dissipate. He wanted his mind to go blank. That was the only way he could ease himself. It didn’t feel like it was the case. And his memories being gone didn’t have anything to do with that either.

 

Little by little, thanks to the reasoning his mind provided, Alby actually gathered some courage.

 

He had remained seated for a couple of minutes when a shouting, deep voice interrupted him.

 

"HEY!"

 

Alby got on his feet in a second, stood with his arms flexed ready to confront whatever and whoever, only he was startled to find a seemingly young guy carelessly hovering above the exit of the box.

 

"Finally!" The other boy exclaimed, he was kneeling at the edge of the exit, his hands supporting him from inclining his body in a dangerous angle. His hair was the first distinctable feature Alby noticed, as the light behind him made his curly hair shine at its ends, reminding him of crackling fire. "I’m so glad to find you!" The teen’s deep voice expressed the relief he must have been feeling as he sighed in content. "I-I mean to find someone at _all_ , ‘cause this place is deserted and I was scared shitless to be alone in this godforsaken place…" The redhead rambled.

 

Alby hadn’t relaxed his stance, eyeing him carefully as his hands raised up to his chest in an appeasing manner. Yet he ended up pointing his index fingers at the guy as if accusing him. "Just who the hell are ya." His tone edgy and menacing.

 

The other boy seemed to gloom over the hostility. "...I’m sorry, I got really excited when I shouldn’t have." Alby didn’t miss the apology in his words. "I’m Nick, by the way." He told the newcomer, waiting for him to do the same. "...And you are…?" He prompted when the chocolate skinned guy didn’t reciprocate.

 

Alby hesitated. The teen seemed inoffensive, but one can never know judging on appearances.

Still… What difference would it really make?

"...I’m Alby." He paused still for a few seconds. "Where are we?"

 

"I wish I’d know, to be honest." Nick confessed. "It’d be best if you see yourself…" He said looking around him for a brief moment before scratching his arm as he pondered how to break it to the new teen. "...It’s kinda depressing, if you want a head start."

 

That didn’t comfort Alby in the least, making his shoulders slump. Anyhow, he had to get out of that box. It was time.

 

"So… You coming now?" Nick wondered aloud. "I can help you outta there." The curly boy offered his hand.

 

Alby, although reluctant regarding the friendly redhead, accepted the help. "How do I get out?"

 

Nick smiled at him as soon as Alby said those words. "I came out using those boxes by the wall, you can stand on them and I’ll pull you out." He explained pointing at the boxes with his finger.

 

Alby did as he was advised and stood on the one crate that was right next to Nick’s side, then he grabbed Alby’s arm and pulled him out of the box as Alby impulsed himself with his feet. Nick patted him on the back one he was sitting on the stone ground outside the lift.

When he looked around, he realised that if he had stayed inside the lift, the result would have been the same: he was caged by four walls.

 

Nick noticed the shift on Alby’s features and felt the need to lighten the burden already forming on the other teen’s shoulders. "I’m sorry you’ve been sent here too." He said looking at the walls, avoiding meeting the teen’s gaze when he turned his face to him.

 

Leaving aside all the negative feelings that accumulated inside him, Alby focused on the redhead and noticed the light brown stubble covering his jaw and chin. The guy was probably older than he was. Or so he felt.

He didn’t know his own age.

 

Nick had been waiting for him to say something, but as Alby did not, he started again, diverting the topic of the conversation. "I arrived here today too, only a while before you. I’ve been screaming and shouting like a madman for anyone to come out of hiding but found myself alone." He got up as he spoke. "I can’t remember anything about myself, just my name." His tone dropped slightly, showing a more dejected tinge. Alby still listened to him. "I know this place doesn’t look like living the dream, but I would appreciate if you could be… I don’t know… A friend? An ally?" Nick struggled to find a way to deliver what he really wanted to say. "Can we get on? I won’t harm you or anything. I won’t fight you." He looked at Alby straight into his eyes. "Truce?" The guy with the light blue eyes extended his open hand.

 

It had come to this point.

Alby didn’t know this person. This person didn’t know him either. Yet he intentionally confessed his lack of memories, just like himself. He seemed lost enough. He also had already accepted his surroundings and the whole place as his new –forced– settlement location.

If Alby had come to this place in the same state as Nick, then there was _no_ reason to not work together to discover where they were.

 

_Right?_

 

"Okay." Alby agreed taking Nick’s hand and shaking him. Nick smiled again at him. "Deal’s on." Then he stood too.

 

"That’s awesome! Thank you, Alby." Nick pointed to a wooden house in one corner of the squared clearing. "I was about to snoop around that house when this alarm went off and the lift brought you, wanna go?"

 

"Let’s go, can be something inside."

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**-63th Floor, North Wing**

**_Monitoring_ ** **Room**

 

 

 

"Elevators ready. You can give the order now, Aris." Thomas confirmed and the boy by his side typed the operation, waiting for confirmation.

 

"Instructions for elevators to stay longer after delivering the subjects confirmed." Rachel interrupted once the information appeared in her working screen. Paige nodded.

 

"Subjects 03 in." Aris concluded after receiving the signal.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**_Elevator A_ **

 

 

 

The world around Minho clanked and moved its way up.

 

He felt something weird. He noted _that_ something was making his mind less heavier somehow. And he tried to identify the lightheaded-like sensation in his skull.

 

He knew it wasn’t dizziness. Nor his perception of time or space was messed up.

 

_"I’m not woozy either."_

 

His senses were robust.

 

_"...What the–"_

 

The ascension of the lift made him realise what was happening to him.

 

Gravity seemed to pull at invisible strings tied to every single memory he owned from his seated position. The sensation of them seeping out of his consciousness was only perceptible when he was paying attention.

 

Minho found himself incapable of grasping at what had been his life until now. Then his breathing started to become irregular.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, his hole body unmoving, and tried to grasp any remnant.

 

_"Everything’s fading…"_

 

_Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank, clank._

 

He opened his eyes again.

The clanking sounds in his ears brought him to the reality of the present. Determination took over him in an instant. He didn’t panic.

 

The clanking sounds still won over silence.

He didn’t yell nor screamed. Instead he kept his hands on the wall to steady himself, then stood up to walk around the perimeter of the ascending box. Crates and boxes was all there was, he found nothing else.

 

His mind only grew emptier and darker with every passing second.

 

But he still refused to panic. _"Get a grip."_

 

With that thought floating in his mind, he dragged the tallest crate to the centre of the lift and went for it. He climbed atop the crate, carefully keeping his balance, and when he was sure he wouldn’t fall he reached the ceiling. More cold, hard metal met his skin. He swept his hands across the area above his head.

 

There. A crease. It ran down the middle.

 

Straining every muscle, he tried to pull both sides apart. He grunted at the effort it was taking.

Yet his will to find an exit remained unwavering.

And he kept trying to separate them for a few minutes.

 

Nothing.

 

 _"Fuck."_ A frustrated grunt the only sound he emitted. They didn’t move. _"It’s not working."_

 

He wouldn’t waste any more second trying something that would get him nowhere. So he jumped down. He scanned the place once more, getting a better result as his eyes had accustomed to the dark. He kept looking for a way out.

 

Minho kept searching.

 

...

 

He kept examining every nook and every cranny up to the standstill of the metal lift. Which also halted his movements. His feet glued to the ground, unstaggering.

 

Then the first crease he tested opened above his head and he had to squint his eyes at the light.

 

 _"Well fuck you."_ He threw a dirty look at the sliding doors.

 

After that little moment of pettiness, he concentrated on what mattered: nothing retained him in there anymore. He had a free pass to go.

 

Quick on his feet, he went up the box he first used and, pushing with his hands down on the edges of those doors when he caught them, the impetus got him out of that whole.

 

Then he saw the new walls.

 

His shoulders slumped. His expression fell. _No._

 

" _More_ freakin' walls?!" His thoughts came through his lips, every word tatted in resentment.

 

A grunt escaped him, then his head turned around, his eyes scanning the place –which was a sight full of green. In front of, behind and at his left, nothing stood in the way between the walls and him. It was different when looked at his right, where there was a one-floor building, just like a little wooden house in a corner of the square of the farming clearing, as well as pens and a tree grove in other corners. Also, a small forest too, it seemed.

 

Even though those details were enough for the mind to distract, he focused on the walls. The grey, ivy-covered walls that enclosed the glade. He stared at them, at all their length.

 

_"Wait… Are those creases?"_

 

From the distance Minho couldn’t really tell, so he started walking to the wall in front of him.

 

However, the curiosity and his impatience in that moment weren’t helping. It took him five seconds to jog and run all the way till he was standing at the wall’s front. He felt them up, the rock only presented a line that divided the whole wall. The rest of it was even. And the view from up close was astonishing.

 

He felt even more caged than before. Insignificant.

 

He drew back from the giant stone, his neck exposing his throat completely because of the angle it was in to look up.

 

He heard steps running. He turned to see two figures approaching him. One was a black-skinned teen with short hair, the other a white-skinned redhead. The latter waved a hand at him.

 

They weren’t anywhere visible when he checked the place out.

 

"Hey." The relaxed salute was from the redhead as he slowed down to a walk.

 

Minho said nothing, openly scrutinizing them. That earned him the same look from the black-skinned boy.

 

"I’m Nick, and this guy over here–oh c’mon drop it." Nick said turning to his companion when he noticed the staring fest. "This is Alby." He chose to say before any of them said anything that could go wrong. However, Minho didn’t stop. _Well. "_ Soooo... I see you came out the box by yourself, did you?" He tried to start a conversation.

 

This time Minho looked at him. His forehead creased in response as he shrugged one-sidedly for a second, uninterested.

 

"You deaf? He asked you nicely." Alby, while taking a step forward, accused the reluctant asian teen.

 

"Who knows. Maybe I don’t answer ‘cause I don’t speak your language." Minho threw the guess at that Alby guy mockingly, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke.

 

A spark of anger crossed Alby’s face at that remark. So Nick decided to interfere. "Okay, you’re both _so_ menacing. Let’s do ourselves a favour and drop this now." Nick’s features hardened. "It’s only the three of us, so try to get along _–_ do not fight at least." He reasoned, his eyes going from one to the other. "This place doesn’t look temporary at all."

 

Alby controlled his tone and Minho simply rolled his eyes, but knew the guy _–_ Nick– was right: the entire place gave off the _incarcerated for life_ vibe.

 

After a few more seconds, Minho finally cooperated a little. "I’m Minho." He stated with a serious look. "Yeah, I came out of the lift on my own." He said looking at Alby, almost tiredly. Remembering how he used the boxes inside the lift as leverage, his mind made a connection with Nick’s statement about the place not being temporary. Thus, he concluded that checking them out was worth a shot.

 

"Good. We were inside that wooden house, peeking around basically." Nick explained further. "Do you… Like… Not remember anything other aside from your name?"

 

 _That_ caught Minho’s interest. _"Now we’re talking."_ He thought before answering. "I’m taking for granted that you don’t and that’s why you ask..." Minho observed. "...Guess that counts as being in the same team. You don’t know where we are, do ya?"

 

"Nowhere good, by the looks" Alby said following the height of the wall behind Minho, who followed his look too, turning his upper-body around as he did.

 

"Well… I’d say we arrived here within half an hour between each other." The blue-eyed redhead added.

 

_"So they’re new here too."_

 

"Maybe we should wait by the box, someone may come up next." Nick continued.

 

Minho’s lips suppressed a snicker before speaking. "Yeah… There’s no _we_ here." He informed. "I don’t trust you."

 

"Whatcha’ gonna’ do then, huh?" Alby retorted. They had just fallen back into their original pace.

 

"As a start, inspect the hell outta this place." He dismissed Alby’s attitude ignoring his tone.

 

"Fair enough." Nick agreed. "We’ll leave you to it then." Nick told him, to what Minho only nodded. So Nick started to go back to the centre of the glade. "Alby, you comin’?" He asked the other, who still hadn’t moved. Alby followed.

 

Once they were out of the new teen’s earshot, Alby turned to Nick. "Seein’ if he told you the truth?" He said as he peeked at the asian teen with a side look. They did see him arrive from a window in the second floor of the wooden house.

 

"Nah, more like testing the waters." Nick confessed. "Checking his attitude, you know. Doesn’t seem like a bad guy; pretty quick I’d say. A bit of a smartass, tho." He said with a little chuckle.

 

"You wanna punch him in the face too?" Alby threw a questioning look at Nick’s way, seemingly very interested in the answer.

 

"I don’t know that one yet." Nick recognised jokingly.

 

 

 

Minho could see the other two teens walking away. And a few minutes later, he was left alone.

 

 _"Now, to business."_ He thought as he brought his hands to his waist. There was a lot to delve into: obviously the clearing gave away almost everything at first sight, when one considered them individually –like the pens and that house–; but at the same time, putting all the pieces together created a picture that was puzzling to Minho’s mind.

 

Just _why_ was a farm like this enclosed by gigantic walls. What was the purpose _behind_ it? What was the _real meaning_ to all of it?

 

Even the way and the circumstances all three of them had arrived at the clearing alone were shady.

 

 _"The boxes inside the lift."_ His own thoughts reminded him. He brought his arms up, his hands rubbing down on his face as he sighed heavily. "...Man." It escaped through the sigh. There was just so much to go through, it was getting difficult for him to decide where to start.

 

Minho chose to check first those boxes before that lift disappeared forever.

 

Who ever knew anymore.

 

He sprinted in the direction of the other two guys, then he went past them and continued until he was on the stone ground surrounding the metal lift, looking down the hole. It was still there.

 

Alby and Nick had stopped dead in their tracks, questioning – _j_ _udging_ – the asian teen’s motives for the crazy sprint. He simply smirked at them when he saw them staring. "Don’t you wanna find out what’s in those freakin’ boxes?" Minho pointed to the squared entry with his thumb, still grinning. Then, as they both stared at him, he stepped forward and let himself fall down the box’s hole causing strident metallic sounds.

 

"Let’s do this!"

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**-63th Floor, North Wing**

**_Monitoring_ ** **Room**

 

 

 

They knew beforehand that the day the Maze trial started, it was going to be a long one. Actually living through it had made it even _longer_.

 

The quartet had been controlling every single parameter regarding the delivery of all forty subjects per group. Some of them made the elevators be late by staying inside. Others took too long to take out the supply boxes –sometimes there were quite a lot. All in all, it had been an exhausting experience of more than twelve hours of monitoring. They all were glad that they would only have to operate like this for a day.

 

Teresa, whose eyes were bloodshot after all day concentrating in the screen in front of her, called out the last subjects’ release. "Subjects 40 in. End of Initial batch."

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

**_Elevator A_ **

 

Darkness surrounded him. When he stared down at his hands, he couldn’t perceive their form. The absence of his own sight made him uneasy. He also noticed that not a sound was audible but his breathing. The air flowed in and out his lungs gaining speed.

 

It all felt incomplete somehow. Perturbing.

 

_Clank._

_Clank._

_Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank, clank._

 

It was the sudden jolting movement upwards that made him shrank back until his hands stumbled upon the cool metal behind his back, steadying himself.

 

 _"Where the bloody hell am I??’"_ He rapidly tried to remember how he came to be in such a position.

 

…

 

He had no memory of that, he realized.

 

 _"Am I dreaming? A nightmare maybe...?’"_ That little fact popped in his mind rather conveniently. _"But I’m thinking logically."_ He further reasoned. _"It can’t be–"_

 

It hit him then.

 

_"...Who am I?"_

 

That reflection triggered the automatic answer his brain provided him with. _"Newt."_

 

Stillness tamed his limbs as well as his mind.

 

 _"...Newt…"_ The name floated in his thoughts. He repeated it. Over and over again.

 

 _There._ Undoubtedly, it was there. A wrongness sensation to the name. The kind of feeling someone would get when their mother mistakenly calls them by their sibling’s name. Or when their best friend playfully scratches their name off that one assignment and scribbles their own one because they forgot to do it on time.

His name didn’t feel right.

 

It didn’t feel _real._ Like it wasn’t really _him._

 

But then…

 

What made him... _him?_

...He couldn’t think of it.

He closed his eyes in concentration.

 

How was he _so_ sure...?

...The answer, he couldn’t tell.

His mouth hang open, inhaling a deep breath...

 

Why was the feeling in his gut so _strong_...?

…He couldn’t bring himself to be suspicious of it.

A shaky exhalation went beyond his lips.

 

When the hell had he forgotten every single aspect of his _own_ self...?

...He just could _not_ remember.

Beneath his eyelids and around his eyes, a hot tingly sensation anticipated his frustration.

 

This didn’t happen normally. Someone _had_ interfered.

 

"... _Who_ did this to me?" His voice only a mere whisper, the mumbled words dripped resentment.

 

He bit his lip as hot tears flooded and cascaded their way down his face, wet irregular trails marked where they caressed his cheeks. He threw his head back until it hit the wall he was still leaning on and opened his eyes.

 

Darkness met them once more, which only made his irritation grow. So he closed them right away. It was astonishing him how in a few minutes he found himself completely disheartened. Because in that very moment, the truth was that he was _no one_.

 

That struck a nerve inside, seeing that in between his uneven breath he let out little strangled noises from his throat.

 

 _"Do I even exist?"_ A dry, humorless huff left his mouth.

 

He would have stopped thinking altogether if the next line of thought hadn’t assaulted him.

 

_"Where do I come from then? What about my family?"_

 

He should have stopped.

 

Out of seemingly nowhere and with close to no effort involved, his mind complied and pictured his mum, his dad, his sister. His best friend. His dog.

 

They were faceless. No mouths, no noses, no eyes where all their distinctive features should have been. Empty holes stared back at him.

 

His heart broke out its beats pounding at a dementedly fast rate and a squeal of agony joined the metal clanks of the lift as multiple pangs stabbed him through his chest, hurting him deeply.

 

The mental image shattered his heart in pieces. That told him how much he cared for them, how much he _loved_ them.

 

How much he had lost in a short time span.

 

No.

 

He hadn’t lost anything. Everything was taken from him, stolen. _Robbed._

 

He brought his hands to his tear-moistened face in pain, his fingers intertwining in his locks, pulling at them as his body shook. He sobbed silently, his expression contorted in emotional pain.

 

What _else_ was left for him?

 

The absolut distress invading him was crashing his sanity. He felt anxious to know something of what was going on.

 

He only knew one thing: he wasn’t safe anymore.

 

His body wouldn’t stop trembling unceasingly, plus with his latter realisation, he noticed he had failed to acknowledge the final destination of the lift. Apprehension heaved inside him.

 

He didn’t even feel frightened any longer, he felt entirely terrified as he looked up dreading what was in store for him. He had no control over his future.

 

That turmoil of emotions made him broke out in sweat.

 

His beating increased. The ever-ascending lift and his blood rushing in such manner made him dizzy, the darkness swirling and devouring him.

 

_"I’m gonna die."_

 

His agonizing heart pounded mercilessly against his ribcage. The world spinned around him. His eyes squinted in fear at the ceiling, the direction of movement.

 

_"I can’t take it."_

 

His mind pictured the metal box crashing on the ceiling of its path. He recoiled, awaited for the worst.

 

_"I’m gonna–"_

 

The metal box halted.

 

…

 

His back slided down the wall until he touched the floor. Not a single thought could be formed in his mind.

 

Some more tears streamed down his trembling skin.

 

Another metallic sound and light filled the container. The opening to the dreaded unknown.

 

He didn’t lift a finger. Because he wasn’t capable of doing so. If any harm was to come, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself.

 

He couldn’t even breathe.

 

"Hey!" A voice called out. A head covered in little curls came into view. However, it didn’t register for _Newt_. "Which one of you ordered a blondie?" The joking tone was remarkable.

 

Shivers fought his motionlessness.

 

 _"...air."_ His chest hurt.

 

"Hey c’mon!" No reply.

 

 _"...need air."_ His shaky hands clumsily clutched at his t-shirt, pulling at its collar.

 

"C’mon you can get out now!" The boy urged him. Then a second head appeared by that guy's side, taking a look in.

 

"...Oh God!!" The exclamation rang so loud in the other one’s ear that he managed to startle the first one. "This one looks like he’s having a heart attack!!" He turned his head to the outside of the box, shouting at whoever was there. "What we do now?!" After a few seconds another voice spoke to the second one, ordering him to get out of the way.

 

 _"...can’t breathe...’"_ He felt his own skin smothering him.

 

Someone descended from above and landed smoothly on his feet, the newcomer’s body casting its shadow on _Newt_.

 

"...can’t breathe..." His voice barely came out. Still, the new person seemed to catch it. The teenage boy crouched down in front of him. _Newt_ had yet to process what was happening. He tilted his head to the right, craning his neck to get more oxygen as his temple grazed the cool wall. The air flowed through him, but somehow it kept feeling like he wasn’t getting any.

 

"Hey dude," The guy began talking calmly. "Focus on me, listen to my voice." He asked the blonde boy. He got the impression that the boy who had just turned up on the box wasn’t listening. "You just said you can’t breathe, right?" He tried to get his attention.

 

 _Newt_ glanced at him sideways, gasping. He heard him, but he was having trouble making out what he was saying when he was hyperventilating like that. The crouched guy stared at him as if deciding when he should talk again, which was a couple of seconds after that.

 

"I’ll help you breathe normally, okay?" He continued, confident in his speech. "Inhale and retain the air for two seconds, like this." He displayed the action himself, his hands boosting some air to his own face and stopping them mid-air for visuals. "Then exhale." He said lowering his hands at the same time he breathed out. "You can do it, c’mon."

 

 _Newt_ ’s eyes followed those hands when his head turned to face the guy. The breathing sounds that boy was making along with the movements translated the whole thing. So he repeated after him when the black-haired teen did. He kept the air within him for a few seconds, then exhaled too fast. Regardless, it was a start.

 

"Good that, keep like that." Again, he breathed in the same fashion so the panicking boy didn’t lose track of it, but the blond still exhaled too quick. "Try exhaling through your mouth," He did after he shared the tip. "it’s easier to control. That’s what you want, to control your breathing." He saw the other one nod lightly, the first response he got. This time he counted with his fingers the time as they both hold their breaths, watching the other closely. He seemed to be catching the slow rhythm. "Yeah, good pace."

 

After a few intakes, _Newt_ regained his focus unnoticedly. The light coming from behind was becoming annoying to his eyes. He started paying attention to this person helping him. He observed his asian features, his dark hair, his lips moving and guiding him, his hands, his long fingers–

 

"Stop thinking, you’re breathing too fast again." He said unceremoniously after the blond didn’t answer the last thing he asked, getting a startled look. "You’re safe, don’t worry. Just focus on breathing slowly. Here, do the same with your hands." He requested.

 

 _Newt_ complied, staring at the guy’s eyes. He breathed in. He held the air. He breathed out.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

In.

Hold.

Out.

 

That was the only task he concentrated in for the following five minutes. That, and looking into those eyes.

 

"How you feel now?" The asian boy arched his eyebrows in question. He had been incrementing the time of each exercise and he thought it had worked.

 

 _Newt_ ’s arms plopped down as he evaluated his physical condition. He felt exhausted, like he had just run a marathon.

Mentally, he felt drained. Everything was gone.

Emotionally… _Chaotic._

"...Thought this _bloody_ lift was gonna crush with me inside." His raspy voice cracked as he stressed his swearing, and he couldn’t help banging his head softly against the wall. His whole being needed to just relax.

 

"Yeah, we get that feeling a lot around here." One could practically _hear_ the smirk in his tone. "Three more shanks had panic attacks when they came. You can team up with them and ask for a refund."

 

"Right, I’ll keep that in mind." He rolled his eyes. That actually earned him a brief sensation of dizziness. As if he hadn’t had enough of that already. "Three out of how many?"

 

"Counting you rounds the number, there’s forty of us now." He stated as he got up. "What’s your name?"

 

"I don’t know ya, I’m not tellin’." He showed untrust. He tried to do the same, but was still too tired and sore to move. That panic attack had wrecked him.

 

"Well, would you see that." His eyes were wide as he snickered. "Looks like we got ourselves a smart one." His amused voice lower than earlier as he rubbed his hands together before flexing his limbs a couple times. "C’mon dude, get up. Let’s introduce you to the fam." Then he got impulse and jumped upwards, grabbing one of the exit’s edges and pushing his whole body out of the box. "You coming up?" He peeked his head from one of the corners above.

 

Grunting, _Newt_ finally picked himself up slowly, thinking about how he wasn’t even going to try out that guy’s trick. Standing up alone ached too much, but he tried flexing his arms anyway. He was about to ask something when the other talked and stretched his arm down.

 

"Gimme your hand."

 

He looked at him, a frown on his face. "Isn’t there–"

 

 _"Yes_ , there _is_. But _this_ is faster." He grumbled tiredly, urging the blond to move with a swift movement of his hand.

 

"Don’t interrupt me like I’m pestering ya when you’re the one offering the help, ya buggin’ idiot." He copied the other and extended up his arm. The black-haired one grabbed him by his biceps, making his hold tight and firm.

 

"Then do me a favour and quit whining." He groaned through the whole sentence while he pulled up at the heavy weight of the blond guy with the weird accent.

 

"I couldn’t even finish the question!" The exasperation was evident in his voice as another set of arms helped him up by his armpits. It was the screaming guy from before, who looked as young as the asian one. He had bulging brown eyes and olive skin. Also, his chin was a little uneven.

 

"Yes, _shank_ , he couldn’t even finish the question." The guy mocked both _Newt_ and the asian guy’s vocabulary with a high-pitched tone as he let go of him.

 

"Cut it, Justin. Not the right time to piss anyone off." The first guy, the curly haired one, advised that teen as both, _Newt_ and the asian, stared at him with judging looks.

 

"Slim it, shank." He warned the guy named Justin, his face stern. Then he turned his head back to the blond one. "Dude, _seriously_ , I’m fed up." There was no smirk this time as he motioned for him to look around them. "See the other 36 shanks in here? I’ve had to listen to them all day long. All. _Freaking_. Day. One after another, every 30 minutes a new one popping out of this _damn_ box, crying out the _same_ questions because–guess _what_?? We’re all in the same boat here. And that’s pretty much twelve hours of whining. So _quit it."_  His frustration made him rant, all the while gesturing with his hands.

 

 _Newt_ had been staring at him, touching the corner of his mouth with his tongue, waiting for him to finish because none of that had anything to do with him–He had just arrived and it was _ridiculous_ –, so he couldn’t help it but call him out. "Well who’s the one _whining_ now?" The statement made Justin snort, who was still paying attention to their conversation.

 

That made the teen’s face go completely blank as he stared back at the blond.

 

A few seconds passed and no one said anything.

 

"You know what, you’re right. And I’m done." He declared with finality, speaking to everyone nearing them. "I don’t wanna know anything about any of you, stupid shanks. Leave me the fuck alone." He turned around before saying one last piece of advice. "Bother me and I’ll break your ugly noses." He simply walked off, leaving the annoying group behind.

 

And again, everyone stayed mute.

 

"Told ya to cut the crap!" The curly boy punched Justin on his shoulder, hard.

 

"What the hell dude?!? That fucking hurt!" He brought his hand where the hit landed.

 

"HEY!" An angry voice belonging to a black-skinned teen with a shaven head came running to their position. "You hit anyone again, I make sure you _starve_ to death." The new boy seemed older than the rest _Newt_ had met. Another teen, a curly-haired redhead, arrived after the threatening guy.

 

"What happened here." The redhead demanded an explanation until he lay his eyes on _Newt_. "Wait, you–Alby, get those two out of here and put them to carry some boxes.’ He interrupted his own speech. The black-skinned boy nodded and did as commanded. "You must be the new boy." He resumed with a calm voice. "You cried down there, right?" He speculated as he observed the blond’s cheeks.

 

"...Yes."  _Newt_ was feeling really lost, all these new people at once made his head hurt again. And having to talk to a stranger about the dramatic event he had just gone through wasn’t comforting him.

 

"He had a panic attack." Someone spoke from behind _Newt_ . Then a tall figure came into view. It was a dark–brown–long-haired kid with freckled skin. "The asian helped him through it but as soon as they came out of the box, he exploded and left." He summed up and pointed in the distance at the subject of his mentioning, who was nearing a forest area. "He specifically said 'bother me and I’ll break your ugly noses', literally."

 

It was when _Newt_ noticed the forest sector when he took a look at his surroundings.

 

Walls. Gigantic walls.

 

 _"What in the world…?"_ He could only wonder what the place was.

 

"Well… We’ll leave him alone until he cools off. But we need him." The redhead shook his head as he massaged his temples, sighing. "This whole thing sucks."

 

"Want me to take care of somethin’, Nick?" The tall one offered.

 

"Hm… Actually, yes. We’ve opened some of the food boxes and there’s a lot of people here to let them free reign over the kitchen. Would you mind choosing a few people and prepare some sandwiches?" Nick requested as if it was too much to ask for.

 

"Sure, I’ll tell ya when it’s done." He smiled at him, patting him on the back before leaving.

 

"Thank you, Stephen!" He raised his voice so he had no doubt that the other heard him. "Now back to you." He was going to address the blond, but didn’t know his name yet. "What’s your name, newbie?"

 

 _Newt_ frowned. There was only one possible response to that question. But the reminder of what he had lived a while ago was still fresh, revolving in his mind. It unnerved him. "...I don’t know."

 

"What?" He looked perplexed.

 

"I… I can’t remember my name." He explained as he scratched his neck. It wasn’t a lie. He didn’t remember it, his real name at least.

 

"That’s weird." Nick adopted a thoughtful stance. "See, every single kid knows his name and only that. No family name, no age, nothin’. But you break the pattern." He revealed. "Do you know anything about yourself?"

 

"No..." How all of them were in the same situation frightened him. That someone who did this had way too much power over them. Sadness tugged at _Newt_ ’s heart.

 

"Don’t mind it then, I think it’ll come to you later." The redhead tried to relief him. "So… What do we call you in the meantime?" He paused before adding. "...Blondie?"

 

 _Newt_ frowned again.

 

"Okay, okay, we’ll think of something else." A look of apology washed Nick’s face. "C’mon, I’ll tell you everything you’ve missed out ‘till now!" He pushed _Blondie_ in the direction of a wooden house.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

Chatter.

 

"Have ya seen his arms?" A deep voice commented lightly. "I saw him lift a box all by himself! That dude is so strong!"

 

Complaints.

 

"...that I can’t go into the kitchen, then they go in and tell me to wait in line for my turn! Man! If I can’t, then why can…" Some short boy passing by complained to another one.

 

Arguments.

 

"But at least someone–one, ONE person here must know something???" Some black-haired boy sitting at a table questioned for the _umpteenth_ time.

 

"Alfred." The one in front of him deadpanned, visibly sick of the pointless blabber. "Shut. The fuck. Up. Eat your _fucking_ sandwich and _shut up_!" The guy’s neck veins were clearly defined.

 

"...But George! Don’t you–"

 

"NO!"

 

"Sorry for the wait. Here ya go." Stephen diverged _Newt_ ’s attention from the ambiance of the dining room where almost every teen had been reunited for a late meal.

 

"Thanks." He said politely taking the plates the other had prepared for him. "Erm… Ya gave me one extra dish." He only needed two, one for him and one for Nick.

 

"One of them’s for Nick, right?" The tall boy looked for some confirmation.

 

"Yeah, but–"

 

"Then it’s okay, he asked me to prepare two for him." Stephen explained him before attending the next one in line. There were only four more people waiting for their dinner.

 

Nick had left him for a while when that boy named Alby came looking for him. He had witnessed as they had planned how to organise the sleeping arrangements for a few minutes before sending him to the room people had been crowding to eat before the day ended.

 

He had been patiently waiting for his food when someone approached him and asked him if he minded ordering the redhead’s dinner too. Apparently, he wanted to talk to _Newt_.

 

He was scanning the place for an empty table –or one not too packed. And then some kids got up and walked out, clearing one of them. So he sat down alone and started to eat the cheese sandwich the ones in the kitchen prepared.

 

He observed all the people.

 

The majority of them had grouped together in pairs and trios mostly. Only a few were by themselves, like him.

 

His gaze dropped down to his plate as he chewed. He missed something.

 

Hell, he missed more than just something.

 

The sky was slowly fading its colour into lighters shades of blue, and with the readying nighttime added to the feeling of the day coming to an end, his mind pictured small gatherings like the one in the room, except that there were a couple of adults, some children. He couldn’t really picture actual faces, but the vision was complete.

 

His heart sank.

 

 _Family_.

 

The food could fill his stomach, yet it could not satisfy his hunger for the safety feeling of home.

 

 _Newt_ yearned for his mother.

 

"Thank you for getting me food." A hand patted his shoulder, surprising him and dispelling his thoughts. He saw Nick taking the seat in front of him.

 

"Oh, hey… ’s nothing." He played it down. "Got everything ready for tonight?"

 

"You bet." The blue-eyed guy picked up his food. "There are lots of rooms in that house, but I think maybe some people will have to share rooms." Nick bite down on the sandwich, he was starving. "Oh man, this is so good." His voice came out rather muffled due to his full mouth.

 

His first thought was that he didn’t want to share a room with a stranger. But would any of them really want that?

 

"Alby counted the beds and that won’t be a problem," He swallowed before speaking. "I’ve also heard some wanna sleep outside. Weird."

 

"Just like that? They’re gonna sleep out in the open?" A frown appeared in his face.

 

"Well, we’ve found some sleeping-bags, if they’re okay with that, so am I." Nick continued eating his food.

 

That was reasonable. He wasn’t going to stop them.

 

"What about your name, did it come to you?" The redhead asked in between bites.

 

"Not yet, no... " He avoided further questioning. "You’re eatin’ that one too?"  _Newt_ pointed at the ‘extra’ plate, his curiosity reminding him of it.

 

"I could," He said finishing his. "but that’s for someone else."

 

"Alby?" He guessed. He hadn’t seen that guy having diner yet.

 

"No, he was one of the first to eat. That’s for Minho."

 

 _Newt_ frowned at the strange name. "Who?"

 

Nick looked at him grinning. "Minho, you know, the one who–according to Stephen– exploded on your face."

 

"Oh."  _That_ Minho. "So that’s his name." He said aloud.

 

"The one and only."

 

 _Newt_ had mixed feelings about that kid.

 

Firstly, he had been really helpful and so attentive –for someone who didn’t know him– throughout all his panic attack, even joked around him.

_"You can do it, c’mon."_

_"You’re safe, don’t worry."_

His mind recalled Minho’s voice from earlier.

With only those words he had brought a sudden sense of normalcy in all the madness of his situation that made _Newt_ feel like he could get through whatever it was.

 

 _"Then the tables turned in a bloody second."_ He thought bitterly, which by Nick’s chuckle, it must had shown on his face –surely a disgusted expression.

 

"Thinking about punching him?" Cheerfulness still lingered in Nick’s tone.

 

"...Not really."  _Newt_ discarded that possibility. "I mean, if you were helpin' someone voluntarily, why vent on them? It’s quite stupid."

 

The redheaded teen understood his point. "Yeah… I know," He started as he scratched his neck. "he has a temper… But since he came this morning –and there was only three of us, he didn’t stop for a second." Nick recalled every moment Minho eased him only with his sense of purpose all morning. "Like he’s been carrying out boxes here and there, he helped the others out the boxes too. Oh and he started running around the walls’ perimeter just feeling them and inspecting the woods and every single corner, looking for some sort of exit out of here." He was still amazed at Minho’s quick-witted mind. "Yeah, the guy’s a talent." He concluded. "He still deserves a punch to the face sometimes." He added as an afterthought, the memory of Alby and him meeting Minho popping in his head.

 

 _Newt_ had only interacted with him for less than half an hour, but all that seemed right on point. Nick’s words only made his curiosity about that guy increase. Not only that, it was relieving to focus his thoughts on something other than the depressing state of affairs. So it was pretty clear for him.

 

"Ya mind if I bring that to him instead?" Newt requested pointing at the sandwich left, already getting up.

 

"Ah…" Nick didn’t expect that outcome. "I don’t know, it’s okay... If you want to?"

 

"Yeah, I have yet to thank him for earlier."  _Newt_ told him as he seemed lost in why would he offer.

 

"Oh, it’s fine, yeah go ahead. If you can, get on his good side, okay? It doesn’t make us any good if we stay mad at each other or whatever, considering everything and all that."

 

"I think’s a bit late for that but I’ll try."  _Newt_ took the food and left to where Minho was.

 

 

  
**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

 _Newt_ could finally see Minho, who was sitting down at the base of one of the trees in the outer row, facing the wall. When he shortened the distance between them, he sat down with his back resting on the trunk of the tree to the asian’s right.

 

Minho had been looking at the blond as he joined him in his –until then– peaceful silence. _"Rest in peace, silence. You will be missed dearly."_ He bid it goodbye in his thoughts anticipating an unavoidable conversation. Then his eyes went back to stare at the giant wall. Even though there were at least ten meters separating them from the hard stone, its colossal size made it look like many less.

 

 _Newt_ followed the other’s gaze, but it dropped to the plate with the sandwich after a few seconds. He went over some words to say in his head, but none were convincing him at all. His eyes went back to look at the other’s face, focusing again on his features.

He was younger than many of the others. His jaw wasn’t as defined as, say, Nick’s.

 _Newt_ had been told that he looked like one of the youngest too. Maybe they both were the same age–

He’d been staring for too long.

He shook his head before handing the plate over. "Here."

 

Minho’s attention snapped from the wall to the sandwich, and questioned the blond as his eyebrows raised, waiting for a reason on why he would be giving something to him.

 

"Just take it."  _Newt_ insisted, leaving it on the weeded ground. Under the scrutiny of Minho, he found the wall to be quite a distraction. "Didn’t thank ya before." He admitted at last.

 

"Ah, that little thing." Minho faked modesty with a snicker. "It’s not like I saved you, right? Breathin’s overrated if you ask me." He exaggerated sarcastically, to which the blond puffed. "But it’s interestin’ to see how you equate this sandwich as repayment for your life." Minho adopted a pensive pose.

 

"I’m already regrettin’ this."  _Newt_ said through a groan as he rubbed his hands against his face. "Eat it."

 

The smirk on Minho’s face wouldn’t go away. "I guess it’ll make do." His tone mimicked a conformist. "It’s not poisoned, is it." He brought the plate close to his nose to smell  the sandwich.

 

"No, but I can still fix that."  _Newt_ offered kindly as he watched Minho bite down on the food.

 

"I’m good, thanks." He said eating at it.

 

After that exchange, silence fell over them. Both stayed quiet. The only audible sounds were those Minho made swallowing.

 

Minho wouldn’t make any effort to keep up the small talk. He still had more important things to think about.

Before the blond guy came, he had been pondering about what he had investigated, all that had taken place that day, every single little detail he had discovered.

He had gone over everything.

The little forest on the opposite corner was only that. Not even a stream. It lacked a natural source of water completely. He had ventured in at some point of the day to see that it thickened the more it neared the corner walls.

The grove of trees where he was. They were all fruit trees: apple, pear, orange and lemon trees. There were some walnut and chestnut one too. All they had in common were that the fruit was on the verge of maturity. The crops as well. But he couldn’t know much about them because of it. Another thing was that there was an underground system to pump water installed.

What he could know was that he didn’t have much knowledge of the crops and would be able to work out that system if he gave it a few tries. That itself _revealed_ information about him.

The animal pens –there were pigs, hogs, cows, chickens, sheep and turkeys–  and the barn next to them seemed to be laid out ready for butchering. He didn’t want to spend much time there, but that was before he found a dog tied to a pole next to the barn. It was a black labrador and barked once to catch Minho’s attention. He was perplexed when he found the animal, because there was no need for one, not even for the animals in the pens to be watched over. But the pet was the happiest thing he had witnessed in the place since he came that morning.

 _Obviously_ , he stayed with the dog, petting him for a while.

The last corner he explored was where the wooden house was. The house had lots of rooms, beds and everything for the night. The next thing he found was a concrete cube with a barred window and a rusty lock on its door. _‘Great. A prison inside a prison. Fucking poetic. I’m gonna kill the shank who thought it funny to get inspiration from matryoshka dolls.’_  He thought then.

The walls. He had walked –ran– the perimeter of the square they formed sliding his left hand on their surface. They were a complete mystery to him. They looked so ancient, covered by ivy. But the idea of them being there for so many years was ridiculous, some things on the clearing looked pretty new and unable to exist if those walls were there for so long. Then the line along every side of the huge square of rock irked Minho to no end.

The reduced age gap of everyone who came from the box. And obviously only males.

He tried to look at all those facts about the place but couldn’t make out the meaning behind.

They were like pieces to a puzzle which didn’t add up, like some of them belonged to different ones. And there couldn’t be a bigger picture. Just random pieces.

He was missing something important. And he knew that _that_ something would draw the connection he was looking for.

But, at the very moment, the information he had was insufficient.

 _"What am I missing…"_ He thought again as he continued to glue his eyes at the wall.

 

 _Newt_ sighed.

 

The noise of it brought Minho out of his world. "What you doin’ here?"

 

 _Newt_ just shrugged.

 

Minho squinted his eyes at the blond as a possible motive flashed in his mind. "If you’re waiting for an apology you’re no–"

 

"I’m not."

 

"Then why you still here." Minho pushed, looking at him and choosing to have some fun at his expense.

 

"Obviously because of your bloody people skills." He deadpanned.

 

"That’s lovely." Minho said drily.

 

 _Newt_ flexed his knees, hugging them against his chest. He wanted to talk to this guy, but didn’t actually know what about. And he wasn’t easy to talk to either. "Dunno. Guess I felt uncomfortable around so many people."

 

"You better get used to it." Minho advised him. Although he could see why the blond boy was feeling that way. He’d only been here for two hours at most. "So if you’re gonna’ stay here, it’s only polite that you tell me your name."

 

"Can’t tell ya."

 

"Dude, stop playin’ difficult."

 

"I can’t tell ya ‘cos I don’t know!"  _Newt_ admitted raising his tone. "Don’t remember it, okay?"

 

"Don’t believe you."

 

"Well it’s the truth, doesn’t matter what you believe. It’s not gonna change."  _Newt_ defended himself. "And why would I lie anyway."

 

"Oh don’t take it personally, I just think everyone’s _always_ lyin’. I’m naturally gifted."

 

 _Newt_ scoffed. "And you say I’m difficult, _unbelievable._ " He said as he got up to leave the guy alone as he wished to be.

 

"Hey c’mon," Minho grabbed the blond by his arm when he walked pass by. "I’m just messin’ with ya. You can stay if you want."

 

 _Newt_ stared down at him, deciding whether or not he should go. Then Minho did for him when he pushed him down by his arm. _Newt_ went with it in the end and sat by his side.

 

Minho, with a smirk on, turned to face the blond. "Been doin’ it all day, you should try. It’s fun."  _Newt_ just rolled his eyes at that. "Who else did you meet?"

 

"Nick–he told me about the place. I know this Alby guy" Minho smirked at the mention of that name. "who’s been planning about the sleepin’ arrangements with Nick, but I didn’t talk to him much." He explained counting with his fingers. "I know the tall one in the kitchen is Stephen too. That’s all."

 

"That’s all, really?" Minho inquired arching his eyebrows as if trying to remind him of something.

 

 _Newt_ stayed put looking at him, he didn’t seem to know what he meant with that. ‘...And _you_.’ He conceded shaking his head as he got it in the end.

 

"Yeah." Minho drew out the word in his lips. In that moment, he felt an intense craving in the pit of his stomach. "Man, I’m still hungry." He rubbed his abdomen. "Want somethin’ sweet now."

 

"And where ya plan to get it from?" His voice cracked mid sentence.

 

Minho looked at him, the smirk on his face grew bigger as if he had been waiting for that question. "You’ll see." He patted the other’s knee twice as he got up. "C’mon, you’re gonna’ help me."

 

 _Newt_ frowned, using the trunk behind his back to push himself up. "Help ya how?"

 

"You sure ask lots of questions shank." Minho remarked while already walking, turning back to look at him. "See those trees?" He pointed at some whose top touched the wall behind them.

 

 _Newt_ jogged for a couple of seconds to catch up with Minho –the teen walked fast. "Yeah, what ‘bout them?"

 

"They have some ripe apples." Minho told the blond as they walked side by side. "Sounds good to ya?"

 

 _Newt_ nodded, a smile barely visible on his face due to the shadows casted by the mass of trees as they went deeper into the grove. Hearing about some apples made his mouth water as his mind reminded him of them with a ghost flavour in his taste buds. He wouldn’t mind filling his stomach a little bit more. He saw Minho stop and peer at the tree tops, seeking the juicy delicacies, but his eyes got distracted and trailed the asian’s whole arm when it dove into some heavy-leaved branch, his muscles shifting under his skin as he touched the fruits.

 

"I think these three are good." Minho said after spinning them around their tails each. It was easy to do so, so he guessed it meant they were good to eat. "Catch ‘em." He said handing two of the green apples.

 

 _Newt_ complied, grabbing both of them, then a third one. Minho moved to another branch looking for more of the same, but the second branch didn’t have any ripe ones – _Newt_ could tell by the clinking sound Minho’s tongue did as he went to another one.

 

Minho continued inspecting the tree when he caught a glimpse of a really numerous group of apples. He whistled at them. "Jackpot, baby." He walked over that branch with the blond following. And he picked all of them after trying their tails.

 

 _Newt_ , after resorting to use the hem of his t-shirt as a bag by the seventh apple the other gave him, had to share his point of view. "...Hate to break it to ya, Minho, but what the bloody hell we gonna do with so many apples?" His voice cracked at the swear word.

 

Minho halted his movements and watched the other teen. "An apple pie." His eyes remained glued to the blond for a few more seconds as the other stared right back, then he looked away to pick up the fruit left. "Nick told you my name?"

 

"Yeah, and you don’t miss anything, do ya?"

 

Minho shaked his head no. "They’re for me, for ya and for someone else."

  
_Newt_ didn’t expect that. "Who?" He asked intrigued by the answer, but he only got a smirk in return.

 

"Wanna find out?" He said instead, taking back some apples from the guy with the accent and carrying them the same way. "Lemme just say you won’t expect it in the least." The mirth was present in his voice.

 

 _Newt_ eyed Minho with careful curiosity. But as he was still thinking it over, the other was already heading somewhere else. "Okay, I’m going." He stated as he followed Minho out of eagerness to discover who this other person was.

 

They both walked side by side in silence, and it wasn’t until they exited the grove that _Newt_ realised they were going in the direction of the corner opposing the wooden house. He could see the lights coming out of lots of windows.

 

 _Newt_ thought about Nick and Alby sorting out the rooms for everyone and also remembered what Nick said about sharing if there wasn’t enough space. _"But there is."_ He argued with himself.  _"But what if there isn’t..." "_...We should go back to the house after this or we won’t have single rooms." He suggested.

 

"I’m sleeping outside." Minho kept looking forward as he answered.

 

 _Newt_ frowned. "Why?" He asked, even though he already supposed the reason.

 

"Cos I don’t know any of you shanks." Minho said nonchalantly.

 

 _Newt_ guessed right. 

 

"What if you’re psychos, huh?" Minho continued as he turned to the other, arching his eyebrows. "Sleeping is the most vulnerable state to be in a house full of strangers, dude."

 

"Well you've got a point,"  _Newt_ conceded. "but you’re also the one who told me that we’re all in the same boat." He reasoned under that point of view. "I mean I’ve seen all those guys while having dinner and–indeed, we’re all strangers to each other but I paid them some attention and they’re harmless." He said in a calm tone as he gestured with his hand towards the house. "We’re all lost here. It’s one of the first things you made sure to tell me." He sounded a bit resent over the outburst Minho had on him.

 

Minho stopped and stared at him with his blank expression on, making the blond coming to a halt too. The blond had just beaten him with his own words. "Whatever." He started walking again. "I’m not riskin’ it."

 

 _Newt_ contemplated the guy for a few seconds more before doing the same and falling into the same pace as he other. He understood his position very well, but he couldn’t help it but worry about Minho staying the night out in the open when he _did_ have a better choice –one with a bed and a roof over his head. "Bloody thick head ya have man."  _Newt_ ’s voice sounded tender, and despite the words, his tone conveyed soft-heartedness.

 

"Seems so." Minho admitted in all seriousness, keeping his voice low too, just as his own feelings. After all, he didn’t actually know what he was like.

 

He felt a tug of the lightest sadness touch his heart, the reflection of it showing on the way his eyebrows pushed, knitted together. _Newt_ caught the real meaning to those words.

There was no real indifference.

Only a rock-hard fact behind.

 

Then quietness hovered over them.

 

None spoke again.

 

Neither thought about anything.

 

 

Silence.

 

Still.

 

_Dispirited._

 

 

However, both kept each other company.

 

 

_Sympathy._

 

Calm.

 

Silence.

 

 

Bark.

 

 

_...A bark?_

 

 _Newt_ frowned, almost stopping. "Did ya hear that?" He thought he had just heard something. The animal pens were at his left, but looking closely at them, none was awake or they were lying down quietly, unmoving.

 

Minho stepped in front of him, blocking his way. He stood in front of him, gazing at him, observing every shift in the blond’s features. He wanted to see the change in his expression when he did what he had planned.

His lips broke into a grin, dimples adorning his face.

 

 _Newt_ undid his last step. "What the–"

 

Minho whistled, air blowing on the blond’s face.

 

A bark.

 

 _Newt_ ’s mind clicked. _A bark._

 

Minho saw the blond one’s pupils move away from him.

His eyes were completely open, they pushed his brows up, wrinkling his forehead.

His lips parted slightly.

His mouth hung open for a fraction of a second.

They mouthed something, ‘dog', barely a whisper.

Then he moved, gaining speed.

Minho, with his eyes still glued to the blond as he passed him by, saw how the corner of those lips stretched. He caught a glimpse of the brightest smile he have ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

His face mirrored the blond.

 _"Someone’s a dog person."_ He thought as he followed the impatient steps of the other teen. " _Well, who isn’t."_

 

 

 

 _Newt_ saw a black dog in a sitting position, waiting with his tongue out, panting in earnest content. He looked so happy and out of place.

But seeing that dog made something light in his insides. A spark of joy.

And it had a familiar tint to it.

 

"Go pet him! What are you waitin’ for?"

 

Minho, appearing by his side, took all the apples from him, freeing _Newt_ to do as he pleased.

He did.

 

 

Minho could only stare at the blond boy.

He was kneeling in front of the black labrador and was petting his head softly as a way of introducing himself to the dog, joining his other hand to rub behind his ears. And he was talking _good-boy_ ’s, _ya-like-it-right?-Ya-like-it_ ’s and _who’s-the-cutest_ ’s to the dog.

Such a gleeful scene.

Such a contrast to all the sad, enraged, confused, lost, pained faces he’d been seeing throughout the day.

 

 

"Ya hungry? Are ya, huh? Bet you are!"  _Newt_ , stroking the dog’s neck fondly, looked up at Minho, finding him staring down at him. And even in the shadowed ambience left by the twilight, he could distinguish how his curved eyes casted his expression with light content.

He felt self-conscious all of a sudden.

Newt was going to speak, but his eyes got distracted by the movement of Minho’s arm again, the asian’s hand went inside his pants’ pockets to pull out a knife.

 

Minho sat down on the ground, leaving the apples on his lap. "Here." He cut an apple in a half and handed it to the blond. But the dog knew impatience like any other living being. As the blond was taking the food from his hand, the labrador couldn’t resist the sweet fragrance and licked both their hands in an attempt to get a snack. " _Duuude,_ stooooop iiiiit" Minho elongated every vowel with his high-pitched tone. "We just met!" he exclaimed wiping his hand on his pants and pulling a weird and disgusted face. "Too soon for fluids man!"

 

 _Newt_ broke out in giggles after hearing his groans. The dog was still licking his hand as he picked up the half apple from the ground, where it had fell. "Wait, wait–" He tried to remove the seeds but the dog was making it very difficult for him, and ended up stealing the piece of fruit. "He won."  _Newt_ announced in between giggles, shrugging and shaking his head. "Ya beat me man."

 

Minho regarded the crinkles by the blond’s eyes as he laughed, what made him wonder his age. He definitely looked young, his features were less defined than some of the teens he’d met before. His were softer, more childlike. Although he’d proved himself to be not too young by the way he showed maturity in his reasoning.

He looked away, picking some apples and splitting them in halves, feeding them to the playful dog, who made sure to lick the juicy trickles on his hand. "Yeah baby you like apples huh." He stated as the dog’s tongue passed over his fingers. Then the labrador smelled the other apples that were left on Minho’s lap. "Hey don’t–don’t–those ain't yours!" He dropped the knife and handed the rest to the blond, who kept them safe from the animal’s licks.

Minho suddenly grabbed the dog’s face and started playing with him. "No dude, don’t ask for more, they’re mine."

 

 _Newt_ started eating one himself as the different voice tones the asian was using made him smile.

 

Minho scratched his neck and did silly hand movements over his fur swiftly keeping the dog distracted. "Hey–hey– _nope_ –dude–no I’m not listening."

The only sounds coming from the dog were the noisy ones of the air the animal was breathing through his open mouth.

"No–no–no–noooo–stop barkin’ I can’t hear youuu." Minho howled the last word. "You’re gonna wake up everybody stop _baaarkin’_ , seriously."

The dog’s face radiated joy as he got scratched behind his ears.

 

"That’s it, man, ya ruined your reputation on the first day, how that feel."  _Newt_ accused a pointing finger at the happy dog as he ate, joining Minho on the banter.

 

"Yeah." Minho put his arm around the dog’s neck, petting him some more. "Look what you did, _Bark_. But that got you a name, so."

 

 _Newt_ half groaned, half laughed. " _Bark_? Really? Ya gonna name him Bark?"

 

"Why not? You jealous?" Minho smirked the blond’s way. "I can name ya too."

 

"Don’t even think about it."

 

"As you wish,’ Minho did a pause for suspense. " _frowney_ princess."

 

"Bloody _hell_."  _Newt_ facepalmed.

 

Minho snickered at the annoyed new-named blond. "Oh c’mon look at you! You got the hair, you got the frown, it’s perfect!" He laughed even harder at the face the blond made.

 

"Okay–I’m leaving now."  _Newt_ rolled his eyes as he stood up and petted Bark goodbye. "Gotta get myself a bed." He declared, turning around to leave.

 

Minho was still holding the dog with his arms. "Hey, leave my apples here first." He called the blond out as he controlled his laughter.

 

 _Newt_ turned around.

He looked at the fruit, then at Minho. "You don’t deserve ‘em." He said throwing one of them up in the air, making it land on his palm. He said marching his way towards the house.

 

"Just so you know, you just hurt Bark’s feelings!" Minho dramatized speaking louder this time.

 

 _Newt_ turned again and then threw the food at Minho so he could catch it. "Forget about that buggin' name or I’m stealin’ all your apples next time!" He warned him before leaving.

 

After he had left, Minho bite down on his apple as he rubbed at Bark’s head. "What you think of him? He trustworthy to you?"

 

Bark answered by trying to bite on the apple too.

 

 

 

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

 

 

 

Newt had looked around the heavy-shadowed clearing, helping himself with the dim light of an old torch. Once he saw Minho, he went his way.

 

 

 

Minho was trying to find a comfortable position with his back against a tree trunk on the grove area.

He heard some footsteps on the grass nearing him, and he opened his eyes to find the blond there. He half covered his eyes from the light. But before he could say something, the other did.

 

"There are still two free rooms if ya change your mind."  _Newt_ informed Minho as he gently threw a sleeping bag and a pillow at him. He stood there for a second watching him what he brought to him. "Good night, I guess." He scratched his neck before going back to the wooden house.

 

Minho stared at him as he left, mentally answering to himself:  _"Maybe he is."_  

**Author's Note:**

> As you might have already picked up -coughs- Nick (and everyone really) glorifying Minho -cough- **I love Minho**. And he deserves so much more appreciation. You don't know how much I love and care for him. And I feel like he doesn't get the love that he deserves. So here, as I said in the tags, **this fic is my oath to Minho, the backbone of this series.**  
>   
>  What did you think? Liked it? Not? I've loved writing this chapter. But as much as I love it, I want to know what **you** think, because if not, what's the point on posting this fic, right?  
>   
>  So this is what I'm going to ask for: let's see if I can get **10 or more comments (if they're long you'll have my complete adoration okay)** before posting another chapter!  
>  I really want to know, so if there's anything you want to say, I'm open for constructive criticism, I crave it okay x).  
> If there's any grammar error, WHATEVER YOU THINK OF MY CHARACTERISATION (I need feedback on this), if you're curious on why I did something or made any character made something, literally anything regarding the fic.  
>   
> Also, I have a tumblr where I post about this fic's progress, if you want to check it out or talk to me there, you know what to do! :) greyxnotxblackwhite.tumblr.com  
>   
> And one last thing I want to say: I've wanted to add to the Minewt fandom for quite a while but last year I couldn't actually sit and concentrate on something like this because of university. But I've been enjoying everything you guys did (writers, artists, bloggers, etc.) and I'm grateful for you because Minewt is so underrated! I hate that! So here, this chapter, I dedicate this to every single one of you whose part of the TMR and Minewt fandom! :)  
>   
> See ya on the comments section and have a lovely day!!  
>   
> PS: If you want to see Nick, I'll post a picture on tumblr.


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